Butterfly Kisses
by Nyx Starlight
Summary: This was nothing like she suspected it to be. In a body that felt so wrong and with a brother that felt so right, Dracule Kuwren faces her own trials as the younger sister of Dracule Mihawk. And she somehow makes it out alive despite the doubts and fears she holds to so tightly. But she wouldn't give this life away for anything. Not anymore. SI-OC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't and won't own One Piece.**

It is beautiful, Dracule Canaria figures. She is beautiful. The little bundle in her arms that snuggles closer to her mother's breast for warmth. Frail hands stroke the newborn's head, a weak smile overcoming her lips. The small tuft of platinum hair that's sure to darken to a lovely golden, bounces on the child's head as her mother gingerly rubs the thin locks with her fingers. Her eyes are open and by god, they are just as sharp as her son's eyes. That pale yellow will definitely darken to the shocking sunshine like color her husband and son are graced with. There's a mild childish disappointment that none of her children take her own eyes but at least one of the two ended up with her blonde genes. Canaria's thumb strokes the baby's cheek as the small eyes begin to shut in exhaustion just as the mother wishes to.

But she still has one last job and she always did have a thing for birds.

"Kuwren. Dracule Kuwren," she murmurs and leans into the bed, the faint shadow of her husband at the door warms her heart, knowing he isn't one for sentimental things. She can see the outline of her son on the outside of the room she gave birth in, and she almost laughs at how he tries to present himself, just like his father.

A pressure soon began to push up her chest, and a coughing fit strikes her. One of the doctors decides to remove the baby as to not get any infection spreading to her weak immune system. It's when a wad of blood lands on the hand that covers her mouth that Canaria frowns, watery blue eyes turning a shadowy gray. They turn upwards to her husband. "Rev… It's time."

It's _her_ time.

* * *

Dracule Mihawk stares down at the bundle of blankets in his arms, the soft chub of cheeks twitching ever so slightly. His cold eyes trail along the small wisps of platinum hair down to her pale eyes, which live up to the Dracule name. He hears a rustle from outside the room he's in with the baby. His father is in the room with his mother; the doctor said they have to take care of a small problem and he's forbidden to enter by command of his father.

 _A problem. They had to take care of a "problem"._ What did they take Mihawk for? A child? Granted he technically is one, at the tender age of five, but that doesn't mean he does not understand how the world works. He's always been very aware of his mother's poor health, and that this pregnancy can cause complications with the thin strand of life she struggles to grasp onto even now. Eyes that had unconsciously moved to the door, travel back to the child in his arms.

She is so small, so precious, so _weak_. And Mihawk hates it. He hates her, he hates his mother, he hates his father. He hates her because she was the cause of this, he hates his mother because she is so accepting of this, he hates his father because he _does nothing._

Mother is there, mother is always there. Like butterfly kisses on a warm spring afternoon, like the tiptoe of the rain on the patio on those stormy summer days in the evening, like the softly dancing breeze during a chilly autumn morning, and like the song of the wolves during the nights of winter, howling for the comfort of their pack.

But father is the opposite, he is the flash floods that wilt the buds of flowers in spring, he is the deathly hot sun that dries up all the water during the summer, he is the buzzards that eat away the food in the autumn, and he is the cold release of death in the icy grips of winter.

And Mihawk doesn't know where he, nor this new human being, belong. He can hear the shouts in the room beside him, the sobs, the screams, he can hear them all and he knows. His mother won't make it out of this one. His grip on the little girl tightens and he grits his teeth holding back any kind of emotion. For all his mother had taught him, he is still too far like his father. The anticipation is deafening, and Mihawk for once, is scared - no, scared wasn't it; he is _terrified._ It feels like years as he stands ever stiff outside of the room his mother is in, constantly forcing his breaths to even out. Even when the shouts become increasingly loud he keeps his breathing.

 _In. Out. In. Out._

Behind the paper thin walls, he hears the cries of his mother and it suddenly becomes harder to breathe.

 _In. Out. In. Out._

More shouting. More crying. More, more, more. He waits patiently for it to stop but it won't _stop just please stop I beg you to just_ stop.

Mihawk is strong, and he will make his sister strong. He is a big boy, his mother says so. She said that once this is over, once his sister is here, he would be a big brother. Which meant he has to take care of his younger sister. He has to be there when she can't.

 _In. Out. In. Out._

It's when the shouting stops and the crying stops that Mihawk stops.

Because he knows, he knows that she- that his mother is gone. His mother is gone and there's nothing he can do, his mother is gone and there was nothing he could do _because if he was stronger then-_

"Mihawk." The single call from his father nearly makes the boy lose his grip, but if he has been taught anything, it was to _not lose his grip._ "Look at me." It's when his sharp yellow eyes shoot up to his father's that he truly knows.

Those days of spring kisses, summer showers, autumn dances, and winter songs are over.

The days of spring floods, summer droughts, autumn famines, and winter deaths are beginning.

But as much as he wants to shout and scream and yell at his father for not saving her, he stays silent and stares up with that simple stare of his that can unsettle a lesser man. Despite the pain that Mihawk feels so strongly, despite how his heart aches so badly, he doesn't miss the look in his father's normally emotionless yellow eyes. He doesn't miss how Dracule Rev's eyes are haunted in a way that they never were before.

And for the first time in the few years he has been alive, Dracule Mihawk cries - for himself, for his mother, for his father, and for his little sister.

That morning, the canaries that normally flutter and chirp in his mother's garden are nowhere to be seen.

* * *

By the time Dracule Kuwren is two years old, she realizes something is wrong.

 _Terribly wrong._

Because when she gets up on those little legs and gazes into a mirror for the first time, she comes to a conclusion. This is not her.

She has brown hair- not blonde.

She has hazel eyes- not yellow.

Her name, Dracule Kuwren, is not really hers. And for a moment, she wonders, _who am I?_

Her head cocks to the side slightly and she almost scares herself with those eyes of hers, because when she thinks about it, about where she is, it's almost scarily familiar. She knows those eyes, she knows those faces. Well, at least one of them.

Dracule Mihawk - her older brother. The one who set this mental crisis off, because his name is something that she knows. His face is something she knows. This is not her world, she does not belong here, she wants to go home. It's when Kuwren thinks back, that she realizes exactly _what_ stole her away from what was once hers. Because this- this world, this family, this set of eyes - are not hers. And she doesn't want them. She wants her own back. The sigh that tumbles from her lips is almost contemplative because she is something that isn't supposed to be here, something that doesn't belong.

Kuwren is not an idiot, she knows all about the butterfly effect and she knows exactly what she is causing by simply existing, and she doesn't want to cause it. She doesn't belong here and her very existence is a plot hole that messes everything up. But she knows, she knows that there is nothing she can do now. Her very existence will change something, anything, _everything._

Because when Kuwren looks at her brother, who stoically watches her with his eerie gaze already living up to his future name, she thinks to herself. He isn't just a character anymore, he isn't _just_ Hawk-Eyes Dracule Mihawk, the world's greatest swordsman. He's something more - he's Dracule Mihawk, her brother. And she sure as hell won't let this life go to waste as her previous one did.

This time, death won't be her enemy. This time, death will be her friend.

* * *

Mihawk doesn't talk to her, and Kuwren doesn't like that. Her father never has a reason to speak with her and her brother avoids her like a plague. She doesn't like this, she doesn't like being alone. She always used to be alone so it's nothing new for her, but it still sits wrong in her stomach. Head down, her eyes dart to her brother who purposely makes a turn in the hallways of the house to avoid her. Her lips tug down and she sighs, defeated.

But if it didn't affect her before, it won't now - she will not let it. And that's how she finds her special hill. Where there's a large weeping willow, a small pond directly next to it where it sucks up the water through its long roots to survive. The tall grass that refuses to be trimmed and sways with the gentle breeze, the lilac that hides within the grass but pops up with the prominent violet color among the green. She loves how the butterflies visit the small paradise, fluttering about like it's a second home for them. Kuwren finds the small oasis out of pure dumb luck but it's the only place she stays anymore. It lets her be at peace with the memories that continue to throb in her head, reminding her that _she doesn't belong._ The gentle sun rays shine through the branches of the willow, its leaves weeping from its own story. Nature is similar to a second home to the blonde and she feels most at peace while surrounded by it. The faint beat of butterfly wings pierces the silence and the soft thrum of the flowers opening in the sunlight make those painful days better.

Her brother doesn't want to be around her, and she doesn't blame him. She cruelly took his mother away and she's barely even begun to be able to forgive herself for it. If she wasn't there, then perhaps he could have lived a better life. Perhaps what happens in the future won't be so messed up. She stares up at the shadowed sky through thick eyelashes and a faint smile reaches her lips at the silence which is deafening.

She doesn't mind Mihawk ignoring her, it just means she's got to stay in the silence that comforts her when he doesn't. She is no stranger to solitude - no stranger to isolation, but where that interaction is missing, the beat of nature can always take its place. But solitude and isolation are two different things to her.

Dracule Kuwren doesn't mind the solitude, she quite enjoys it.

But she hates the isolation.

* * *

At first, Mihawk hates her. At first, Mihawk hates his sister with a great kind of passion and it's not until years later that she realizes why. He hates her for being so weak, and he hates her even more for killing his mother. He didn't blame her _because Mihawk knows what happened,_ but he can't help but feel displeased at her.

Because she can never live up to his mother.

But then, one day, she does.

It's a gentle spring day, which doesn't happen all that often where they live and especially ever since his mother died - it's as if the island itself is mourning. His father had requested - demanded more - to go and find Kuwren from wherever she had run off to, lest she gets hurt.

The boy finds his younger sister on a hill, the long, untrimmed grass surrounding her frail form. Mihawk watches as she stares up into the clear evening sky, a peaceful look in her eyes that he had only seen once before. The words of a scolding caught in his throat as he sees her head slightly tilt upwards and a delicate butterfly flutter down to her level before coming to a ginger rest on her nose. Her eyes slowly shut and she exhales deeply, the butterfly twitching but remaining. It's then, as Mihawk stares at her, that his heart aches because she is the embodiment of Dracule Canaria. And that hurts to think about but as he spies the smile on her lips that's both too soft for her family origins and too melancholy for her age, he comes to a consensus.

Mihawk concludes that she is exactly like his mother. And that he will protect her. He won't lose another, he won't lose those delicate butterfly kisses this time. Kuwren's eyes close, but Mihawk's eyes open.

* * *

Kuwren doesn't know where it came from, but the day she comes back from re-evaluating her life, she notices a change in her brother. Whether it be the subtle shifts of his eyes that always seem to drift towards her or the way he never strays too far from her side. But something must have happened, and Kuwren isn't used to it.

She came from a world where she was on her own, straight from the moment she could comprehend a solid thought to the day she lost all thought. She never had someone to look out for her, to protect her, to _care_ for her. And now, she has a family that protects her, cares for her, looks out for her. It's odd, she knows that, and it's not something normal for her. But there's something inside of her - she does not know if it is Dracule Kuwren or the other one - that she can not understand. Something that when she trips and see's her brother not exactly rush, but go to her aid at least, that warms her up inside. Despite living in this small, untrained, untainted body, Kuwren decides one thing.

She decides that she likes this new life of hers. Because although it feels so _wrong_ just being here, being related to _him_ , she decides that she likes it. And she won't give it up - not this time, or the next.

Kuwren can live with being here.

* * *

The small, blonde girl lays among the grass blades and the animals and the bugs as she stares to the side of the sun. Her oddly sharp eyes are half lidded and drag lazily against the clouds that float along the lines of the sky. The silence around her is deafening but she enjoys it because it lets her restless mind be at peace. The small, pale hand of hers raises above her face and she tilts her head slightly as the appendage fascinates her. It's so small.

Her ears twitch as she hears the sound of clashing blades and her still expression brightens. She races from the hill she loves to rest at to the training ground behind her house as fast as her little legs can carry her. Skidding to a stop, she slows her pace and hides her presence in a bush away from the training field. Striking yellow eyes dart to and fro as her brother and father clash blades. The sheen of sweat on Mihawk's forehead doesn't escape her notice and she smiles almost bitterly. _He still has a long way to go._

She loves watching the two spar, and because her body is still so frail and weak, she isn't allowed to learn the art of the sword. Kuwren mostly lets her eyes track the movements of their father, at how his every move is precise and to the point. Every parry and every strike are exact and graceful in its own way. The spar is similar to a one-sided dance and her father is the star. Trailing back to Mihawk, his movements are still jagged and choppy, only reading the movements as they are at present time. He acts on instinct and does not predict or plan accordingly. It's odd to see him in such a state and it almost makes her giggle at how frustrated he seems. By the slight furrow of his brows and the narrow of his eyes.

Every day that the duo spar, Kuwren tries to watch. She doesn't particularly want to fight, she had no reason to and no drive to do so. She is well aware of the world she is in and how crucial the skill is to learn - but she just doesn't want to.

At least, not yet.

* * *

A frown tugs at her thin lips and Dracule Kuwren searches almost frantically for her brother. Mihawk went out that morning and has not yet returned and it's already the late evening. There is nowhere he could have gone without her knowing, the house they live at is surrounded by dense foliage without civilization too close. _Although..._ Kuwren inhales sharply as she remembers the small village that was somewhat nearby - _they had to get supplies to survive somewhere._ Her small teeth grip each other tightly and sharp eyes dart across the house from her father's study to the door. She's normally forbidden to stray too far from the house but this is an emergency.

Her father is no use, he lives with a philosophy that children grow by making mistakes on their own and fixing it on their own. He rarely ever interacts with his own children. That's what her mother is there- what her mother _used_ to be there for. She never even got to meet her and Kuwren will regret that forever. Shaking her head from all the thoughts that began to jumble together, she hesitates for a second more before racing off into the woods, towards the village.

Dracule Rev watches his daughter chase the path they have to the village with a bitter grin, eyes closed with the remnants of wetness on the corners. He saw the determined look in her eyes and it pains him so much that he can't form a relationship with her. Rev doesn't understand comfort, he doesn't understand how to be the strong, faithful role model of a parent - that's what his wife was for. But with Canaria gone, he does the only thing he can and makes them stronger. But he is hesitant on training Kuwren, who is nearly the spitting image of his wife. The woman who never took up a blade in fear it would cause chaos and disrupt the peaceful life she lived. But as weak as she was physically, Canaria was a tiger in spirit and if she was still alive now, she would fight tooth and nail to protect her children. So as he stares at his daughter racing off at still such a young age to find her brother, he nearly loses his grip because-

 _She is so like her mother._

Fear begins to drive her movements as she nears the village. Something tingles in the back of her head that spoke volumes about something that's _wrong_ , something that's so, so wrong. Kuwren passes the few villagers that stare at the blonde curiously, a few shying away after spotting her distinctive eyes. But no one bothers to stop her as if they could feel the storm incoming. Her small feet ache with a pain she hadn't remembered feeling before, the only thing keeping her running is sheer willpower in fear for her brother.

Then she see's exactly what her mind is telling her is so wrong, why it's screaming at her to leave because it's dangerous and _she needs to get out now._ Mihawk has his back to a corner, - something she feels didn't fit him at all - the wooden training sword in his hand is cracked and bits are falling off. Older kids surround his body as they shout at him, screaming that he is a demon, that he doesn't belong, that he will ruin their town like his father had. The look on his face may have been blank, but she can tell even he was struggling to keep up the mask of indifference. Fear swells in his golden eyes and she knows, he's _scared._ Future Mihawk can take care of this without a thought or without even breaking a sweat. But present Mihawk can't, she knows that for a fact. Scratches litter his body and large red sores cover his arms and legs as if something blunt had been thrown at him. She could barely list the other injuries his body sustained without breaking down and she honestly hopes it won't be anything too bad as to permanently damage his young body.

For the first time in her short life, Kuwren feels something akin to pure, unadulterated rage as it fills her to the brim, spilling over. Before she can stop it, her voice starts screaming at them to get away _that is her brother and this life be damned she won't stand for this._ They stare at the child in front of them when they see her eyes, the exact same as Mihawk's own. And a rock hits her arms, her body shrinking back in pain. She spies the boy who threw it, a wicked look in his eyes as a sickening grin comes over his lips.

"She's the same as the other kid," he murmurs to the other kids, and the same glare covers their eyes. Kuwren gulps because she knows, she knows she's weak and that this is a mistake. But it doesn't matter now, it's all for her brother and for him, she would give the world. For him, she would bring society to its knees. With their attention off him, Mihawk tracks what they're staring at and his trembling body stills. He hadn't meant to drag the attention of his sister to the village, he hadn't meant to be gone for so long. A second rock flies and narrowly misses her head, the blood draining from her face at the assault. As if getting the hint, the other kids begin scrambling for more rocks, the rowdy laughter starts up again. Mihawk feels his facade fall, and he grits his teeth painfully. This isn't supposed to happen, he is supposed to be the one protecting her, he is the one who's supposed to be the older sibling for her, he's supposed to be there when his mother can't. He has to get her out of here, he has to keep her safe, he swore to his mother that he will keep her safe from harm. And then he notices something, he notices her not moving despite the tears that stream down her cheeks, despite the pain being inflicted on her frail body. She does it all to keep the attention off of her brother who is already barely standing. His lip trembles and he tries to keep his warring emotions steady, all the lessons his father had taught him about being a solid rock during battle resurfacing. But it hurt so _badly_ , and he hates it as he stares at her taking the beating for him.

So he does the only thing he can, and throws all those lessons from his father away and tackles the closest kid to him, bringing them down and fighting the only way he could think of; the only thing filling his mind is the thought to protect his younger sister. All his training goes out the window as he scratches and punches and throws dirt at the boy, all in the name of Kuwren who struggles to not start outright wailing then and there.

This is for his sister who he _swore_ to protect, and if Mihawk is anything, he is an honorable person.

* * *

It's hours later, that the two siblings with bruises covering their battered bodies and cuts and scratches oozing blood, walk off, out of the village with grins on their faces, hand in hand. The kids that picked on them were home, nursing the wounds on both their body and pride. It's then, Mihawk decides he will be the strongest. He will be the strongest if only to protect his sister. He will be the strongest so that he can be the big brother she needs. He won't let her down.

Not now, nor ever again.

* * *

 **So I was thinking about all the One Piece SIOC/OC stories I've read, and I have yet to read one like this so I decided - hey, why don't I make one like it? So here it is, tell me your thoughts and I'll decide if I should continue it or not, haven't quite decided. But so far, I am loving writing this. Hope you all enjoyed it. :) Sorry for any typo's.**


	2. Chapter 2

Under the cover of darkness, Kuwren sneaks herself and her brother out of the house they lived him. She clutches to his hand tightly and even with the absence of light, she can see the impassive look on his face. A minuscule grin tugs at her lips as her feet move across the tree-covered land, her body knowing where every indent and bump is, herself now naturally straying from them. Small giggles float up from her at the faint confused undertone from Mihawk. Ever since the incident at the village, which they still don't understand why it happened, her brother had been trying even harder to keep a solid grasp on his feelings and what he showed. Kuwren supposes it had something to do with the evening her father called him into his study and he came out with a blank, stone cold face. Finally reaching her hill, she pulls him closer to her body to counteract the sudden rush of cold air that covered the air.

Mihawk just watches as she drags him up the hill and into the weeping willow, its branches sturdy under them. He can barely see the look on her face from the night that surrounds them, but he just leans back and stares at her face with a blank expression.

"Ready?" Her soft voice jolts him out of his fade from reality and he nods faintly at her question. Kuwren tells him to wait and so he does, keeping his eyes on her as she lowers from the branch of the tree they stayed in. Her small feet pad against the dew covered grass and she begins to run her fingers across the blades. At first, there was nothing, and then- a light.

And then, a thousand lights bloom up from the grass, spreading to the trees around them. The gems of sunlight began to rise. She clambers back onto the branch, a giddy look on her face as she stares expectantly at her brother. A dumbfounded look on his face that not even his harsh training could claim as he watches the buds float up with the bulbs on their backs lit brightly. The lights reflect in his eyes, which trail back to his sister with a questioning look in them.

She only grins brightly, teeth and all, and chirps to him, "happy birthday, Mihawk." The blonde stares at his sudden blank expression, a faint sense of worry that she did something wrong fills her gut at his stillness. They don't celebrate birthdays at the Dracule house, but she had to do something for her brother at his tenth birthday - it was normally a special day for children and their parents but considering their father would never do such and thing and their mother was- well, she couldn't exactly help them.

Silence surrounds them and Kuwren flinches at his purely blank expression, her bottom lip begins to tremble until-

"Thank you," he breathes faintly, and from the illuminating bugs she see's the smallest of smiles curl on his lips.

And she's happy because she knows that no matter how powerful he becomes, how locked away he sets his emotions, he will always be her brother.

* * *

It's when the winter season comes that Kuwren remembers. She remembers the memories of her past life, the memories she tries so desperately to forget. They flood her head and push and throb, trying to make her understand _that this is not who you are, you are not Dracule Kuwren._ The blonde falls to her knees and clutches her small head in her hands tightly, clenching her eyes tightly to keep the tears from falling. She doesn't want to cry, she doesn't want to cry because she hates the feeling- she hates how _bad_ it makes her feel.

A knot forms in her throat, and she struggles to keep her breath from hitching. Her body trembles but she does not cry, furiously rubbing away the tears that build up on the edges of her eyes. Images that she barely remember flash in her eyes and she sees hideous things, hideous sights that she doesn't want to remember. _There was blood. So much blood._ The scream building up in her throat is barely contained as her breaths attempt to claw free from her constricting throat. _Just breath, just breath, just breath._

She inhales shakily, and doesn't exhale; the breath won't leave. Small, pale hands wrap around her throat and she claws at it to try and get the air to escape. She tries so viciously to keep the tears from falling and the dry sobs wrack her frail form. Her lips turn blue as she collapses onto her forearms, coating her body with the snow. The hill she ran to is covered in frigid white powder, not a single breath of nature there to give her breath. Visions of snow and ice, fire, and blood fill her head. A sickly crimson covers her body and when she looks at her hands, blood covers them. Her body jerks back and she sees faces surrounding her but all she sees is a blur, no features. Her hands wrap tighter around her pale neck and she struggles to take a single breath, _inhale, inhale, inhale, inhale, inhale, inhale._ Darkness consumes her vision and her surroundings slow to a blur as her body falls, never to escape again and finally falling to the icy grip of-

 _Exhale._

And suddenly, Kuwren can breathe.

Warm arms wrap around her body, and Kuwren realizes that she never knew how wonderful it was to be able to breathe. Her mouth clamps shut and all she does is bury her head in the chest that holds her steady, letting her body shudder. Calloused hands gently rub away the tears and faint murmurs of sweet nothings and soft promises break the veil of terror. Mihawk just holds his sister tightly, ignoring the growing fear in his chest at the thought that he could have lost her then and there. He only breaths, _in, out, in, out,_ and his grip tightens.

* * *

When all is said and done, Kuwren is still but a child without a mother. So she sits her days out under the weeping willow on her hill while the buds of spring begin to bloom and blossom. She sits there, wondering even still, why was she given such a beautiful place. Her back lies against the soft blades of grass as her brother rests next to her, his eyes closed with an unusually relaxed expression on his face.

Kuwren sighs and watches the birds flutter around the willow and an impossibly small smile curls on Mihawk's lips as he drags an eye open and sees one of them land on the blonde's still form. The little canary titters on her chest and cocks its head, staring at those odd golden eyes with its own abyssal black orbs. The slight of her lips twists into a grin and what comes out is half of a laugh and a sob because of course the bird has to be a canary. Her grip only tightens around her brother and her grin becomes something a bit sadder.

But it's okay- it's okay, because Kuwren has Mihawk, and that's all she needs.

She knew it would be a good idea to set up the grave under the willow tree, the canaries always did enjoy resting on it. And so did she.

* * *

His mind goes blank as the blade of his father's clashes against his and Mihawk feels his body move back multiple inches. His lips quirk faintly because last week it was feet instead of inches. He could feel the strain on his muscles as he trains day in and day out to become stronger.

Every day his father pushes him further than he ever thought he could go, and Mihawk is glad. Because he needs to be the strongest if only to protect those precious butterfly kisses. He had known his mother for five years before she- And he would not waste those five years, he would remember her and he would remember the stories she used to tell him _before._ He knows how gentle his mother was, the exact opposite of his father and himself and that's why he will never let her take up a blade. Why he will never let Kuwren ever take up a blade and spill blood. He won't let that crimson cover her hands, never to be washed away. He see's what it does to people - his father in particular on those truly dark days - and he never wishes that fate upon her.

So as he swings at his father and takes blow after blow, scratches covering him from head to toe, he takes pleasure in the minuscule scratch on his father's upper arm because that means he's getting better. That means he's getting stronger. And getting stronger meant he would be able to protect Kuwren. He would protect her, unlike he did with his mother.

Mihawk will shed the blood of even the gods if it makes his sister safe.

* * *

The Dracule family was one that showed little emotions, and Dracule Canaria was the only one that did when she first had Mihawk. So as Kuwren goes about her day, tittering and bouncing around like a little bird, it tends to bring an oddly warm feeling to Dracule Rev's chest. He's afraid because he knows that when his two children get older, they will have to deal with his mistakes. They will have to deal with his past, and he fears more than anything, that Kuwren will become too much like him.

That's why- that's why he doesn't interact with them. He doesn't want to drive Kuwren to be like Mihawk, who unfortunately took after him. He wants to keep the precious girl just like her mother. Rev tries to stay out of their way because he knows that if he even tries to interact he will mess something up and remove that smile from her lips. That smile that tugs at his heart too great. It hurt to look at her, and Rev just buries his hands in his head as he sits in his office. But through all the pain clouding his mind, a small giggle breaks through like the sunshine on a foggy day. And he lets the faintest of smiles quirk on his lips because as long as he can keep the smile on her lips and the giggle in her throat, he will be okay.

Rev will be okay.

* * *

Kuwren never wanted to fight, she always tells herself that fighting is useless and even though she was thrown headfirst into this world that revolved around strength, she doesn't want to fight. She never had a reason too.

And then, suddenly she does.

It was the evening, the sun resting low on the horizon and the sky fading to a lovely shade of crimson. It unsettles her with the mixture of tangerines and cherries but the feeling was pushed aside as she skipped to the hill. Her now platinum blonde hair had gotten a little longer and she was overjoyed to be able to put it in a small braid. Kuwren's small fingers struggled to get the intricate knots in but she was the only person to do it with Mihawk who only knew his own hair and father who she never saw.

She runs her hand through the blades of grass that reach her waist from her small height and plucks a daisy that lives away from its family in the patches of flowers. The blossom twirls in her fingers as a peaceful air surrounds her body. Golden eyes shift upwards when she feels a slight shift in the air and they narrow. A group of children scale the hill with sticks and other wooden branches in their arms. She notices who they are from a mile away, they're the same kids from that little village that persecuted her brother.

"Hey look! I told you, didn't I? They come here all the time," one of them jerks their head to the others, a finger pointing blindly at Kuwren, whose blood runs cold.

"What are you doing here?" The blonde struggles to speak calmly as her body trembled with barely concealed rage. She would never forgive anyone who harmed her brother. Her fists clench and her left one keeps a tight grip on the daisy but refrains from crushing it.

One of them steps up with a coy grin on their face and twirls a lighter in their hand. He pops the lid open and lets the flame flicker, illuminating the mad gleam in his eye. "This is only paying your stupid family back for everything they've done to us," his words make Kuwren sick to her stomach and before she knows it, she's sprinting faster than she ever has. Because if he even dares to let that flame touch the tree and her mother's grave _she'll tear him limb from limb, get that away from her._ The birds scatter as the other boys dump whatever dry wood they have at the base of the tree, their feet crushing the flowers that were lain on the scuffed dirt so gently.

Everything turns to a blur for Kuwren as she reaches them and leaps onto the boy with the lighter, clawing at his face and screaming at him to stop. Two of the others grab onto her arms and haul her off of the boy who looks only slightly scuffed up, an ugly frown plasters on his face. She screams at them to stop and _get away from her and get the hell away from her mother!_

They all just step back and for a moment, Kuwren can feel her heart stop in her chest and the tears she once held back break through the dam. Her mind floods with emptiness as the lighter falls from his hand in a gracefully agonizing way and sets the wood ablaze. Heat snaps at her skin and the boys all jump from how fast the flame catches on the tree. They all sprint away from the growing fire. From her lax grip, the daisy dances away from her loosened hand. The bloom gets caught in the wind and begins to fly toward the rapidly growing flames which soon envelopes the bottom of the tree. Branches catch the flame and it grows to the very top, smoke rising into the now smoggy air.

Without time for rational thought, her body acts on pure instinct and lunges for the flower that's just out of her reach. The pads of her fingers graze the bottom of the stem before it's consumed in the flames. Its petals wither and soon the flower is nothing but ash. Kuwren meets the ground in a heavy impact after her lunge and fire licks at the skin of her arms which had fallen into the burning mess, a scream shredding her throat as she bellows out in pain. The blaze dries her eyes and she struggles to get out of the flame, falling into the empty expanse of dirt surrounding the hill and attempting to roll it out. She takes a moment to thank whoever was up there that the grass had been gone for years, causing the fire to stay in the area surrounding her willow. A choked sob tugs at her throat and the adrenaline in her system ignores the pain her body feels from the burns that ravage the skin of her arms. Pained golden eyes flood towards the grave her brother and she had set up, makeshift as it was with a plank of wood and a consistent fresh bundle of flowers at its base. The bouquet was engulfed and soon burnt to ash, fresh tears bursting from her eyes as the wooden plank was shredded by the flames.

"No…" Her body shudders and her words slur as dark spots begin to appear in her eyesight. Her breath hitches and her shoulders tremble as her body sways slightly and she cries out weakly once more before her head pitches forward into the abyss.

* * *

Kuwren wakes up to pain and the familiar golden eyes of Mihawk, who bites his lip as he stares her down. Her own hues hazily glance over the balm and the gauze on the bedside table. Her eyes just squeeze shut tightly as the memory hits her in the face and her heart clenches. "They," her voice is a wheeze and she attempts to move her hand to hold her brother's but the pain is too strong, "they," her breath hitches and her lips tremble as sobs rip from her chest. Mihawk just lets his hand run through her hair, his own eyes closed in the painful memory of seeing the makeshift grave burnt to the ground, surrounded by the charred remains of the willow whose branches once seemed so invincible.

Hours later, when Mihawk returns from when he had left to check on his father, he returns to a sight he never wishes to see again. Kuwren lie on the bad, her lips in a straight line as she stares up at the ceiling with a blank look in her eyes. There was nothing there, it was just blank. Mihawk faintly frowns and breathes to compose himself for a moment before climbing into the bed, careful not to jostle or even brush against her arms. He curls up next to her, and for a moment, Mihawk is a child again.

* * *

It's at least two days in, and Mihawk is tired of just laying around, mourning for what was lost. He has a conviction that this happened because of his weakness, he should have _been with her and why wasn't he with her and now she's hurt and not okay and you're weak and weak and useless and weak._ His hands tug through his dark locks and he growls to himself under his breath. His feet lead him from one side of the room to the other, head filing with various thoughts and ideas about his sister and how he could have prevented this. _If only he knew._ He needed to get stronger. Mihawk had noticed the smoke in the air and without a thought, raced to the direction her hill was. He reached the bottom of the hill right as soon as she lunged into the fire and reached her right as her head pitched forward, landing in his lurching arms.

He had sent a scalding glare to the last of the children running off into the woods and hurried her off to the house where his father scooped her up into her arms like she was a baby again before walking off with her body in large strides. Before Mihawk could get into the medical room their house had, the door was slammed shut in his face and he knew that meant to wait. So he waited.

Two days after the first time he visits her, he makes a decision. He stops laying in the stuffy room next to her and starts training harder than before, he would protect her. He will not let this happen again.

Because, he figures, if he was stronger he could have gone to the village sooner and finish any qualms they had against his family. But the first time he ever went to the village, there were too many people and they overpowered him accompanied by the harsh words and glares from the adults. He would just have to be able to take them all out on his own - he _w_ _ill_ keep her safe.

* * *

Seconds, minutes, hours, days pass and Kuwren just stares up at the stark white ceiling. Her face is blank but her mind is consumed with thoughts. She should have been able to do something, she should have done something, _anything._ But she didn't, she was weak. She has never trained a day in her young life like her brother has, since he was very young. The blonde never thought she actually had a reason to fight, she always thought she could stay out of the main future by staying on the sidelines and living on the land unknown. But it seems that fate has different plans for her.

Kuwren has never liked the concept of fate, and as she stares at the ceiling she thinks to herself. She thinks about all that has been and all that will be. She _doesn't_ want to fight, and she wasn't going to, but if fate thinks it can meander its way into her life and destroy her happiness then fate has another thing coming. So she makes a decision, she makes a decision because she's tired of being fates doormat, and she wants to take things into her own hands. And to do that, as much as she hates it, if she wants to protect the things she loves, she has to get stronger.

She has to fight.

And so, Dracule Kuwren decides to fight. If only to protect what she loves.

* * *

"What? Why?" Kuwren cries, a small snarl on her lips as she faces the back of her father who sits straight in his chair, a pen scratching on a paper she couldn't see. "You teach Mihawk," her jab goes mostly unnoticed except for the fact her father sighs and lays the pen down. He rubs his forehead and stands, towering over the short little girl, a barely seen frown on his lips.

"I will not let you fight, Kuwren." Her father's tone suggesta that the conversation is over but Kuwren was not over with it.

"And why not?"

His face remains calm and his eyes are cloudy as they stare down at her. "I will not and that is final. You will not make me change my mind." Kuwen feels her brows furrow and she frowns, fists clenching in the anger that came over her.

"Is it because I'm a girl? It is, isn't it?" She spits, a dark fury in her eyes that Rev can't help but freeze at because it's the same gaze Canaria gave him when she was angry. He grits his teeth at the thought of her and raises his voice slightly.

"It is nothing like that, Kuwren. I do not discriminate between female and male warriors. I just will not allow _you_ to fight," tension fills the air at this. "You're mother never did, and you never will," he mutters under his breath, composing his form before shooting a parental glare at her. But Kuwren has already been through that before, she will not go through it again and she sure as hell will not go through it with _him._

"Do you even see what you're saying?" She counters, now beginning to pace around the front of the room. "I _need_ to learn or else I'm just going to get hurt again - or else," she pauses swallowing saliva that builds up in the back of her throat. She inhales, and exhales, remembering the feeling of breathing. "I want to fight, I want to be able to protect myself and everything I love. I want- I want to breathe."

Rev stares at her evenly despite the way his chest throbs painfully at how familiar her conviction is and how powerful her words are in truth to his head. He wants to, god how he wants to, but he won't. He refuses. And it's for a stupid reason.

"I will not train you. That is it." He guides her out of the room and slams it shut, a lock sounding and for a moment, Kuwren forgets she's more than a five year old, she forgets she's more than some child and yells, and screams, and cries. She cries at how unfair is it, how unjust he is, how _she's not some flower that shouldn't fight she's not-_

"I'm not her." Her voice resonates in the room and then she's gone, back to find Mihawk because if their father won't help her, then her brother will have to.

Kuwren misses his barely audible sob.

* * *

"Mihawk?" Her small voice breaks Mihawk's concentration as he slashes at the training dummy with the stone training sword he wielded. He pauses and nods his head slightly before turning to his sister, a lighter gaze in his eyes when they reach her. Something feels wrong when he sees the traces of anger that linger in her speech and when she runs to him, latching her arms around her stomach.

"What do you need?" He is impassive and lets one of his hands rest on her head for a moment as she burrows her head deeper into his stomach. She mumbles an answer and he simply blinks before asking her to repeat herself.

"Will you train me?" Her words made Mihawk pause and his eyebrows rose for a moment before they narrowed.

"Why do you ask me? You can just ask father." He doesn't like how she stiffens when he says that or how there's a faint growling under her breath. There's fury in her voice as she speaks.

"He… He won't teach me," she explains shortly, eyes directing them elsewhere than his own.

"And why not?" His tone stays even as he watches his sister, and it's a small marvel how different they are. Silence consumes her for a moment and she lets out a desperate sigh, tilting her head down.

There's an odd gleam in her eyes and Mihawk can't quite place it but it just seems off. "Mother."

"Ah." The silent explanation is there and the boy needs no further explanation.

"So will you?" Her voice is light again and Mihawk thinks for a moment before telling her to visit him again tomorrow for an answer. She had nodded before running out, her face ten shades brighter than it was a moment earlier.

The moment she ran out of the room, Mihawk resumed his training. His feet shifted and with one foot slightly in front of the other, he swung the blade, adjusting to the new weight. He slashed the practice dummy before bringing his blade back to guard. Thoughts whirred around in his head as his body began to move unconsciously. Originally, he had never wanted to give Kuwren a blade, he had sworn he would be the one to fight. But the look of conviction in her eyes tilts him to no end because he had the same look in his eye before. Pausing in his slash, he eyes the door and breathes out before resuming. He is hesitant, he doesn't want to train her, he never wanted to.

He shifts his stance and readjusts the blade, his body already yearning for something stronger, more powerful to wield. But he continues what his father taught him, grumbling under his breath. Mihawk knows what the world holds, his father told him many years ago when he first began to train with the art of the sword.

He had told Mihawk that if he were to learn the blade, it would have to be his only priority. And Mihawk had chosen the sword, he had chosen the sword because he would be the strongest in the world. He would protect his sister with his blade and no one will stand against him. _But,_ he considers, _if she wishes to learn as well, I cannot deny her._ The look in her eyes, the determination in her words.

So Mihawk decides to train his sister while his father refuses.

* * *

"No," Mihawk uses his own blade to shift her footing and readjusts her arms as she holds the lightest wooden blade the Dracule family owned. He forgets how he was when he began. He commands her to swing but the blade barely lifts off the ground and he sighs, he has a lot of work to do.

As the days pass, Kuwren almost laughs because through the pain and soreness of her torn muscles, they grow stronger. She can feel her endurance lengthening and she almost wields the wooden blade properly.

"Think of a sword as an extension of yourself," Mihawk repeats the words his father says to him and teaches her. He swings a secondary wooden sword and knocks her back. "Firm footing," he reminds, and with her teeth grit, she nods. His blade clashes with hers and she skids back at least a foot. It reminds Mihawk of himself; his lips quirk.

"You must always take care of your sword," his father would tell him. "A mark on a sword is a mark on a swordsman's pride." Mihawk always takes care of the steel sword he practices with, cleaning it after every lesson and relays the same lesson onto his sister who is almost ready for stone.

* * *

Kuwren sits cross-legged, her back against her brother's as they sit in an open field of tall grass. The sun barely hangs on the horizon, slowly sinking under the scenery. Her body relaxes and she ignores the soreness in her muscles in favor of the sunset around them. Mihawk does not watch, but he lets his sister lean on him with his eyes shut. A breath of a laugh escapes her mouth and Kuwren can't help the smile that continuously grows on her lips as her arms wrap around her legs. Her hair is down and surrounds her sharp eyes which are trained on the hawk that circles the sky above them. She simply snuggles closer to Mihawk and shuts her eyes.

* * *

Kuwren stares at the mirror in her room, most of her clothes were discarded on the floor. Her eyes are dim as she traces her arms and the marks that cover them, the skin significantly pales than the rest. It's wispy in some places and jagged in others but she just sighs and clenches her eyes shut before lifting them up. The scars trail from her palms to her shoulders and to the beginning of her neck. She doesn't like it but she has to live with it. The pads of her fingers run against the skin and it's much rougher compared to her natural skin. She frowns and attempts to tear her eyes away from the skin. The texture bugs her and she doesn't like it. She doesn't like it at all.

But she has to live with it now.

* * *

Time goes by and soon, the charred remains of the willow are cut down. Kuwren hurries to the hill with gentle hands holding a seed they had stolen from the small village. It wasn't a willow tree seed, but a cherry tree would work well enough. Her brother has taken the task of taking out the dead tree and digging out the stump while she brings the seed. She finds him waiting for her with a small hole dug out behind the newly restored grave of their mother. Gracing him with a small smile, Kuwren lays the seed in the bottom of the dug hole and covers it back. She pours the little water they managed to bring and step back. She wraps her hand around Mihawk's, who simply nods to the grave and begin walking away.

Kuwren pulls her hand back and picks a small flower from the ground that still was fresh with blooms away from the burnt ground and lays it on the grave. That done, she runs back to her brother and swings their hands, a gentle smile covering her lips as they walk back to the house. The daffodil just remains on the grave despite the wind that blows at it.

She pulls her body closer to Mihawk's and sighs. Things will be okay.

* * *

Kuwren is nine when it happens. Kuwren is nine when her father dies.

It started out as him being gone for a few hours each day, always returning for Mihawk's training. Who in question, was advancing in leaps and bounds, he was able to beat his father in some of the spars the two had. All the knowledge he learns, he passes onto Kuwren who had advanced to a stone sword months back and is bordering the next level finally. Soon, their father was gone for longer and at times it was days until he would return. Every time he returned home, blood would follow him wherever he went. The blonde worries for him and when he comes home after three days go by, there are loose bandages surrounding his body that do nothing to hide the condition he's in.

As Kuwren watches the spars between her father and Mihawk, it's obvious how his skin starts to tear easily and his stomach inclines more. She worries despite her ill towards him and she tries to get him to eat and seek better medical attention. But he just pushes her away and says he'll deal with it himself. His face begins to sink the longer he's gone and he never even looks at them anymore, even Mihawk barely gets a glance. His father barely ever trains him anymore, just passes along without more than a talk.

It when he's gone longer than a week that he returns and Kuwren can feel the blood leave her face at him. Mihawk ushers her away and as much as she wants to stay she obeys, knowing the look on his face.

Hours pass and Kuwren just sits in the grass outside of the house, brushing the flowers and the grass with her fingertips. She leans back until her back is on the soft ground, her sharp eyes staring up at the overcast sky, blocking out the sun and any of its rays. When the door opens, her entire body jolts to see Mihawk with a blank face. She blinks as he walks to her in silence, grabs her hands, and starts to walk off, away from the house.

"Mihawk?" Her voice is barely a whisper and a look of confusion falls over her but her brother does not respond. He takes her up the hill they never visited anymore and he sits next to the sapling they had planted at least a year ago. He still hasn't uttered a word and Kuwren follows suit as she sits next to him, each of them on either side of mother's grave.

The swordsman just sits on the ground, an empty look in his eyes as he blinks downwards, his eyes unseeing. Kuwren repeats his name and grips his hand tighter. Her heart begins to thump faster as his dull eyes drag up to her painfully slow. She flinches at the look on his face but stays silent. "Father joined mother."

Kuwren stays silent but a grimace crosses her normally soft features and she does nothing but let her shoulders slump. "Oh," she murmurs, body falling forward until she's leaning on her forearms on the newly growing grass, "oh."

Silence consumes them.

* * *

Kuwren stares up at the night sky, her brother asleep in the house. Her eyes trace every star and it reminds her of _home._ She smiles melancholically before closing her eyes with a sigh, a smile curling on her lips. Platinum hair spreads around her similar to a halo and she just lets her body lay there. Dabs of water fell on her limbs from the clouds that began to cover the night sky, enveloping the stars. One lands on her nose and another on her left arm, trailing down slowly. More begin to fall, one on her leg, one on her forehead. It soon begins to pour as she lay on the grass, her clothes soaking her down. One on the scar on her chest, and one on her cheek, mixing with the salt water that remained.

Water pours over her body and for a moment, she thinks back to what she could have had. And suddenly, the water stops and her eyes dragging upwards to see an umbrella covering her body. Her head tilts and she sees Mihawk drenched in water, his eyes elsewhere as he held it out over her. Her eyes soften and she grabs his large hand and the two siblings make their way back to the house.

It will be alright

* * *

 **I still need to edit this more but I've had this 6k written for a few months and have** **n't put it up because im trash. S** **o ill maybe write more and upload that hopefully in a shorter time**

 **hope you enjoy this though :)** **lemme know what you think if you want, and if not then we all good**


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